


it is

by sahraylia



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Biting, Body Image, Body Worship, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Frottage, Injury, Light D/s, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mirror Sex, Praise Kink, Scar, Sex Crying, Voice Kink, scar kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 06:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18565999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahraylia/pseuds/sahraylia
Summary: The first time Will touches Chilton’s scar, it’s completely by accident.





	it is

The first time Will touches Chilton’s scar, it’s completely by accident.

They’re kissing on the living room couch, Chilton warm and pliant beneath Will as they languidly rut against each other. After a while Will breaks the seal of their mouths to look at Chilton’s face. He can see that Chilton’s skin is lightly flushed, his eyes are blown and half-hooded, and his lips are swollen pink. Will smiles, and Chilton squirms. Will bends to suck at the hollow of Chilton’s throat and Chilton moans quietly, bucking a little. Will moves to unbutton Chilton’s slacks, but his fingertips brush for a brief moment at the ridged skin underneath the fabric of his shirt, and Chilton gasps sharply, stiffening.

Will pauses, sitting up immediately. His stomach twists when he sees that Chilton’s face is chalk white. He grimaces. “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

Chilton shakes his head hurriedly, swallowing. “No, it–it’s alright, I’ll just–”

“Frederick.” Will can’t keep the edge of worry out of his voice.

Chilton closes his eyes for a few moments and takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Will frowns.

Chilton huffs a small sigh, and he rests both of his hands over one of Will’s own, pulling it to his heart. “Really,” he insists quietly. Then he adds, a bit softer. “Just… don’t touch it for now?”

Will nods, clinging onto that  _for now_.

In the following weeks, Will tries to incorporate small things to gauge Chilton’s comfort level.

Whenever he hugs Chilton, he makes sure to cup his sides for a second or two before embracing him fully, and Chilton freezes at first, but always relaxes into it.

When Chilton is making hashbrowns for breakfast one morning, Will comes up slowly behind him and wraps his arms around his waist so that his hands are nestled just below his belly. Chilton doesn’t say anything, but he sets the spatula down and turns his head to kiss Will thoroughly.

On a late Saturday afternoon, Chilton wakes up first, and thinking that Will is still asleep, he gets dressed in their bedroom instead of their bathroom, where he normally dresses. Will is awake, however, and he watches silently as Chilton removes his shirt without self-consciousness, exposing the full reality of his scar bathed in sunlight. Will takes a breath, deciding to chance it when he says, “You look beautiful.” Chilton stills for a taut moment, but he turns and Will can clearly see that he’s blushing and fighting a tiny smile. The tension dissipates, and Will is hopeful.

They’re watching reruns later that night. Chilton is curled up next to Will, his head resting in Will’s lap. Will is petting Chilton’s hair when Chilton very deliberately reaches up to take Will’s hand and settle it around his waist. Will waits for a moment, unsure. Chilton squeezes his fingers just once, and Will understands. Carefully, he moves his hand so that it’s splayed across Chilton’s belly over his shirt. Chilton is trembling almost imperceptibly, and he breathes out a shaky sigh, but he doesn’t protest or move to take Will’s hand away. In fact, after a minute or so, he is completely relaxed, and he nuzzles wordlessly at Will’s thigh. 

When they’re making out on their bed a few days later, Chilton pulls away and gasps a little breathlessly, “Wait, I want–” he stops, biting his lip.

Will brushes his thumb along Chilton’s temple. “What is it?”

Chilton licks his lips, looks directly at Will, and says, “I want to take my shirt off.”

Will’s eyes widen in surprise, and the hope that has been building in his chest for the past several weeks flares bright and hot now. “Alright,” he says.

Chilton inhales and exhales once evenly. He unbuttons his shirt with methodical precision, though Will can see that his fingers are trembling slightly. As the garment falls open, the scar is revealed, long and thick and knotted and nearly healed, but still prominent. Chilton shrugs the shirt off his shoulders and sits before Will for a few moments, totally bared. He is still shaking quite visibly, but his gaze on Will is unrelenting, sure.

Will reaches out with one hand. “May I?” he asks softly.

Chilton nods. “Yes.”

Will spends the next several minutes touching Chilton’s scar. He traces his fingertips around the raised edges, brushes the backs of his knuckles over the tight, shiny skin, maps out every single detail with a gentle tenderness. Chilton is raw, his responses uncharacteristically naked and unrestrained. He gasps, moans, sighs, whimpers, shivers. A dark blush is spreading from the top of his neck down to his chest, and his breaths are coming harsh and erratic. Heat flashes through Will when he sees that Chilton is fully hard, his cock tenting his boxer briefs and leaving a prominent wet spot of precome on the material. Will groans at the sight.

“Christ,” he murmurs. Chilton mewls and thrusts his hips in agreement.

“Lie back,” Will says, his voice breaking. Chilton immediately complies, spreading his legs and crossing his wrists above his head. Will has to grab the base of his cock and bite hard on his lip at the picture that presents.

He situates himself in the space that Chilton’s legs have provided and presses his mouth to the scar, just breathing against it for a little while. He flicks his tongue across the skin experimentally, and his cock jumps when he hears and feels Chilton’s deep-throated moan. Emboldened, Will alternates long swipes of his tongue with feathery kisses and nipping bites. Chilton whimpers, his body writhing and undulating of its own accord. Will can feel Chilton’s swollen cock twitching against his chest through the material of the underwear.

“You’re so gorgeous like this,” Will growls. “All of you.” He gives Chilton’s scar a hard suck for emphasis. “Every part.”

Chilton shudders and whines, thrusting into Will’s chest shamelessly. Will looks up, and he sees that Chilton is gripping the headboard now, his mouth open and his eyelids slit nearly shut.

“Look at you,” says Will, in awe. “You’re amazing.”

“Will,” Chilton gasps desperately, his voice frantic. His thrusts are losing coordination, and Will recognizes the first signs of his impending orgasm.

“Are you gonna come for me, just like this?” he asks. Chilton cries out. Will can see and feel his muscles tensing. “Oh my god,” he groans. “ _Fuck_ , you are– _god yes_ , do it for me sweetheart, do it right now.”

Will latches his teeth onto Chilton’s scar and bites down hard.

“Show me.”

Chilton wails, arching his back and coming instantly between them.

Will soothes his hands all over Chilton’s skin as he rides the waves of his orgasm, his muscles tensing and releasing for over a minute before he’s finally finished, body quaking with delicate tremors. Will shifts up the bed so that he’s lying alongside Chilton and cradles his face in both hands. Chilton is crying, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and tracking down his cheeks. Will kisses each one of them away.

When Chilton is finally able to speak, he whispers, “Thank you.”

A few hours later, Chilton watches, enraptured, as Will fucks him from behind in front of their full-length mirror. Chilton stares at his scar, observing with intrigue at how it moves and bends with the rest of his body, a part of him. Curious, he touches one fingertip to the outer edge and inhales sharply at how it feels. Will covers Chilton’s hand with his own and spreads them both over the scar. 

“It’s–” Chilton can’t finish, overwhelmed.

“Yes,” Will says, kissing his neck. “It is.”


End file.
